


You Might Say I Like To Play One-on-One With You

by blackmountainbones



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Hung Otabek, M/M, Masturbation, Public Sex, i shamelessly use all the fandom cliches and do nothing original whatsoever, yuri’s thirst for otabek’s muscles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 22:53:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11323386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackmountainbones/pseuds/blackmountainbones
Summary: The thing is, Yuri’s seen dicks before. He’s a sixteen-year-old in the internet age; he’s seen more penises penetrate more holes than he can count. It’s not like he’s never seen a real dick, either: between all the time he spends at the rink or at the gym, he’s bound to have seen more than a few naked dongs. Nudity, Yuri thinks, is no big deal.At least until he catches a glimpse of Otabek in the onsen and discovers that nudity is a very big deal, indeed.





	You Might Say I Like To Play One-on-One With You

**Author's Note:**

> i’ve had this fic in my drafts ever since the official artwork of the skate gang at the onsen with yuri and otabek wearing matching tiger shirts. i logged into tumblr one evening and was confronted with the fandom’s thirst for otabek’s arms, and this draft grew from about 300 words to nearly 3000.
> 
> hmmm, a fic in which yuri gets caught jerking off? when have i done that before (hint: [“You Lead Me Like A Siren”](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11183739))? maybe i should make this a whole series. just one-shots of all the different Yuri on Ice! characters catching yuri jerking it. 
> 
> (if anyone catches the reference in the title, you are a true atomic dog)

Yuri leaned an elbow on the low table between himself and Otabek, resting his chin on knuckles in what he hoped was a flirtatious manner. “Katsudon is delicious, isn’t it?” he asked. His eyes flickered down to Otabek’s mouth, where a couple of grains of rice were clinging.

Not for the first time, Yuri noticed how plump and smooth Otabek’s lips were. He was struck by the impulse to lean in and close the scant few inches between himself and his friend, nibbling the errant grains off his friend’s mouth--

But Otabek licked his lips and answered Yuri’s question. “That was... pretty good, yeah.” He placed the empty bowl and oily chopsticks onto the table with a soft _clang,_ and Yuri jumped a little bit, the spell broken. He leaned back on his feet, tucking his chin to his chest as he sat ramrod-straight.

He inhaled, throwing a haughty look at Otabek. “Psssh, you haven’t even experienced the best part.” Yuri smiled. “Have you ever been to a hot spring before?”

Otabek shook his head. “I just got here a few hours ago, Yura,” he reminded his friend gently.

“Well, it’s awesome. Better than a massage,” Yuri proclaimed. The hot water did wonders to relax sore muscles without the pain of working a knot out manually.

“I don’t know,” Otabek said. “Isn’t it weird to bathe with strangers?”

“It’s no weirder than taking a shower in the locker room with a bunch of naked skaters.” Yuri blew his bangs out of his face flippantly. Sure, he’d felt the same way his first time at the onsen, but he had long since gotten over his fear of bathing with strangers--well, being naked with strangers, really, but that was beside the point. He grabbed Otabek’s bicep and yanked him to his feet. “C’mon, this way!”

Yuri dragged his friend down the hall to the locker rooms. Luckily, at least here, it was just the two of them, so Otabek had no reason to be shy.

“C’mon, take off your clothes,” Yuri teased, undoing the belt of his yukata and smiling.  He could tell that Otabek was hesitating, and Yuri understood--after all, it had taken him a few days to get used to bathing with strangers on his first visit to Hasetsu, too. But the warmth and relaxation of the hot spring was totally worth the public nudity.

Besides, it was no big deal, being naked in front of a bunch of strangers. Though he had to admit  it was kind of endearing how shy Otabek could be sometimes.... His cooler, older best friend had never been to a hot spring before, and yeah, Yuri was showing off a little bit. It was fun to feel more experienced than his older friend at _something_ , at least.

Finally, Otabek shrugged. His fingers reached for the knot in his robe, untying it deftly; before Yuri could look away, Otabek pushed the sleeves of his robe down to his wrists.

His breath caught. Otabek’s upper arms were sculpted, biceps flexing as he twisted to remove his robe. And better than that, his broad torso was on display, too...

As an athlete, Yuri had seen all kinds of men’s bodies yet none had prepared him for Otabek’s solid yet still-slim form, all golden skin stretched over cut muscle, nipples brown and pouting.... And _oh fuck_ , his _abs_ \--Yuri could see the cut of Otabek’s oblique down the sides of his firm stomach, the sparse line of coarse hair that trailed from navel to crotch--

And fuck, _what_ a crotch. Even soft, Otabek’s dick was nearly as long as Yuri’s was hard, hanging tantalizingly thick against his thigh. He had to do a double-take, but he was pretty sure that Otabek’s dick was circumcised because of the way the ridge at the bottom of the head was exposed.

Yuri shouldn’t have looked. But he had, and now was suffering the consequences: all of the blood in his body rushed down to his dick. He was hard in an instant, flushed and aching, and he swallowed, thankful that he hadn’t quite managed to undo the belt of his robe. Not that Beka could miss his erection. The pouting head of his penis rubbed against the silky material, and before Yuri could stop himself, he took a sharp breath.

“Yuri? You OK?” Otabek’s small dark eyes looked concerned.

“Yeah, fuck...” he choked out, then ran his fingers through his hair, trying to think. “Just... I have to go to the bathroom, so um, you should shower. I’ll meet you in the onsen.” His voice broke in the middle, making him sound even more like the young and inexperienced teenager he was.

Otabek tilted his head and pursed his lips. “You sure you’re OK, Yura?” His voice was soft and rumbling, and it went straight to Yuri’s dick.

“Uh, yeah. I’ll... see you in a few minutes?” A few minutes was all Yuri would need to deal with his dick, then shower off the evidence of his shame.

Otabek grabbed a fluffy towel from the cabinet next to the locker room door, bending down gratuitously so that Yuri had a perfect view of his ass. Christ, Otabek was almost as thick there as Katsuki, and everyone knew that the Katsudon had the best ass in international figure skating, male or female.

Yuri let out another involuntary groan, then shuffled towards the toilets adjacent to the locker room with his hands in the pockets of his robe, hopefully distending the fabric enough to hide his hardon. The room was small, just a single sink, a urinal, and a stall with an efficient Japanese toilet. Yuri let himself into the stall, so focused on getting off that he carelessly let the hinges spring shut the door behind him without even thinking to latch it.

He was too focused on the heat between his legs. There was no way he’d be able to step foot into the onsen until he’d dealt with his erection. He was pretty sure that going into the baths like this was against the rules, and not to mention probably also illegal...

Yuri pushed his yukata bottoms down his thighs and took a moment to admire the way his hardon stretched the shiny purple fabric of his underwear. The tight fabric of the tiny briefs exposed almost everything beneath, clinging to every ridge and vein on Yuri’s penis. He rubbed his balls with the palm of his hand, watching his cock throb expectantly in his underwear.

Shit, he shouldn’t be doing this. Not here. Yuri at least had the presence of mind to know that.

But his dick was so hard it _hurt_. With a shuddering sigh, Yuri pushed his underwear down and let his cock spring free. He teased himself for a minute or two, giving himself a chance to think about Otabek’s dick before he got down to getting off--

The door to the bathroom creaked open, and a familiar pair of feet in leather-thonged sandals stepped into the room. “Hey, Yura, have you seen my shampoo--”

The sandaled feet drew closer. Yuri was still stroking himself--it felt too good to stop--when Otabek stepped in front of the stall door, and knocked. The door sprang open, and Yuri remembered--

He hadn’t locked the door.

_Fuck._

Otabek stood there in the flesh, completely naked, save for the towel thrown carelessly over his shoulder. Yuri’s hand froze between his legs and he was completely mortified when he opened his mouth to explain--and _moaned_ instead _._

“Yuri. What are you doing?” Somehow, Otabek did not seem surprised at all.

Yuri whimpered, his hand still wrapped around his dick, face as flushed as the red cockhead poking out of his fist. It was altogether obvious what he had been doing--his robe was open from the waist down and his hardon was in his hand.

He was caught; there was no denying what he’d been doing. Yuri licked his lips, then forced himself to speak. “I had to--Beka, you’re so _hot--”_ His erection bobbed shamefully in his hand, and he squeezed it, another moan escaping. “Your arms. Your fucking _abs,”_ he groaned.

Yuri probably should have been embarrassed--Otabek had, after all, just caught him jerking off. Jerking off while thinking about Otabek, no less, about his muscles and his dick, so brazenly on display... but Yuri _wanted_ so badly he was past shame. He reached for the cock thickening between Otabek’s legs, but Otabek sidestepped his grasp. Yuri whimpered. He wanted to touch, to feel that huge dick swell and grow hard in his hand... It made his own cock leak.

“Don’t let me stop you,” Otabek murmured. “Go on. Touch yourself.” He tossed the towel off his shoulders and over the stall divider, exposing his cut shoulders, the same corded muscles that had given Yuri an instant boner in the locker room.

Suddenly ashamed, Yuri fumbled with his penis for a moment until he managed to rearrange himself with both hands between his legs--one cradling his balls and the base of his cock, the other touching the tip, just teasing the head with his fingertips. He was determined to last long enough to make Otabek lose it.

But Otabek just stood with his back to the door, tall and proud. His dick was still soft, though certainly thicker than it had been in the locker room. He stepped back, narrowing his eyes, his fingertips gripping the skin of his thigh, just centimeters from his cockhead. Yuri’s mouth watered.

Yuri had seen plenty of dicks before. As a sixteen-year-old with an Internet connection, he’d seen more penises penetrate more holes than he could count. It was not like he’d never seen a real dick, either--as an athlete, he had certainly seen almost all of his rinkmates and competitors in dishabille. He was no stranger to the occasional inconvenient erection--it was easy to get swept up in the adrenaline of competition, and Christophe Giacometti was certainly neither the first nor the last skater to get off on the ice.

But none of those dicks made his mouth water and his cock pulse the way Otabek’s did. It was brown, a deeper golden color than the rest of his skin, the cut head pouting and exposed. With his thumb, Yuri pushed back his own foreskin, enough so that his pink cockhead poked through. It made his dick look a little like Otabek’s, the head a little bit more prominent now.

The hand on his dick began stroking up and down, slow strokes short enough not to pull Yuri’s foreskin above the glans. The extra skin bunched in his fist and tickled his sensitive frenulum, and Yuri moaned, a little bit frustrated. He’d normally touch himself much faster and tighter, as impatient with this as everything else.

But it was worth it to see Otabek’s dick twitch against his thigh, filling with blood. Instead of reaching for himself, his fingertips tightened on his thigh, his cut shoulders tensing. It made Yuri’s chest and his cock swell with pride and something not unlike power to see a man as stoic as Otabek so affected by watching _him_.

Yuri’s cock twitched in his hand, and he felt a bit of precome trickle from his urethra and over his dickhead. The wetness made a slapping sound as he stroked, and Yuri sighed. He always got so sloppy, so quickly--

“Fuck,” he whimpered. “It feels so good, Otabek...” Another droplet of precome dribbled, and Yuri began tugging his foreskin up and down the head. His cockhead was just too sensitive to touch directly for too long, and Otabek was just starting to get hard....

“Oh, Yuri,” Otabek said in a crackling voice, “you look so beautiful like this--” He’d finally stopped grasping at his own flesh with his fingertips; his thumb was teasing the purpling head of his cock, the shaft slowly stiffening from the stimulation.

Yuri let out a wordless cry, and pumped his hips in and out of his hand quickly. When his cock released another spurt of precome, he let go; his erection bobbed in between his legs, his fingers tensing around thin air. He wanted to come so bad--but not right now, not yet....

“Show me,” Otabek breathed. He was no longer teasing himself: he spat twice into his hand, then reached to curl around the root. His dick was fully hard now, bigger even than Yuri had expected. He was no expert at guessing these things, but he estimated that it had to be nearly 20cm long...

“Shit, how did I not notice how big you are?” Yuri choked, putting his hand around his dick once again.

“Maybe you weren’t looking.” Otabek bit his lip as he did the same, matching Yuri’s pace at first, then pausing to slick his palm with spit once more. Once his dick was wet enough, he quickened his wrist, trying to bring himself to the edge just like Yuri.

“Oh, trust me, I was looking,” Yuri muttered, fixated on the way Otabek’s fist moved up and down his dick. Hard like this, it was darker, blushed with blood, altogether so different from Yuri’s pinker cock. It was nothing like Yuri had expected, and also hotter than he’d ever imagined.

Otabek ‘s breath hitched and he did something weird with his hips, a kind of aborted thrust that made Yuri reflexively hump into his own hand. “You can look all you want,” Otabek moaned, tightening his grip on his dick, stroking harder, stroking faster....

Yuri tugged on his cock, not even trying to maintain a steady pace now. All that mattered was the weight of his erection and his tensing balls, the desire twisting in his gut as he watched Otabek’s biceps flex and his dick darken in his hand.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna be able to look away--” he panted, breaking off into a moan. “Not until I come--” Yuri jerked his penis arrhythmically, still watching Otabek’s arm muscles expand and contract as he touched himself. He had only been teasing himself for a few minutes, but he was already far too excited to delay his orgasm again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he grunted.

Otabek sensed what was coming next. With his free arm, he pulled Yuri close to him, their cocks mere inches from one another as they masturbated for each other. All it took was for Otabek’s cockhead to brush against Yuri’s own as they touched themselves, and Yuri was coming with a series of high-pitched, tiny sounds that might have been grunts if they hadn’t been so damned _cute_.

Somehow, Otabek managed to hold back until Yuri had let go of his own penis, his balls finally drained and his cum smeared across his pubes and thighs--and a little on Otabek too.

With a half-smirk, Otabek ran his hand through the sticky semen Yuri had spilled on his stomach, the white sperm contrasting tantalizingly with his golden skin. Before Yuri could speak, however, Otabek’s hand was back on his own dick, stroking wildly.

Grimacing, Otabek bit his lip and came. His dick released several heavy, hot spurts of come, most of it landing on Yuri’s chest and stomach, some of it dribbling down the side of his cock and onto his balls.

They clung to each other in the aftermath, unable to do little more than sway as their bodies sparked together, electric.

“Mmm,” Yuri finally sighed, but he did not move from Otabek’s embrace. “We need to shower before we go in the onsen.”

Otabek pulled him closer. Their softening penises touched, and the pressure on his sensitized skin made Yuri’s hips stutter. He buried his head in Otabek’s shoulder--he was still smeared with cum from his earlier orgasm, and he was already trying to hump off on his best friend once more--

“Easy, tiger,” Otabek murmured against his neck, splaying his palm at the base of Yuri’s spine to still his impatient movements. His fingers rested in the hollow between Yuri’s lower back and the curve of his ass. “Hot springs now, more orgasms later.”

“You promise?” Yuri purred, rubbing his cheek against Otabek’s like a cat. There was a whisper of stubble on Otabek’s jawline, which scratched against Yuri’s skin pleasantly as he did so.

“Mmmm. Promise,” Otabek said, reaching up for the towel he’d tossed over the stall door. He swiped the worst of the mess from his stomach and thighs, though a clump of semen was stuck to his pubic hair. Yuri absentmindedly wondered who it belonged to before deciding that it could have been either of theirs, or both--and the idea was _hot_ , somehow.

Otabek tossed the towel at Yuri, who just barely managed to catch it. He found a clean corner and made a halfhearted attempt to wipe himself clean. Luckily, Yuri had managed to avoid staining his robes as he’d come, and he pulled his yukata bottoms up and his robe closed once more.

He was about to unlatch the door when Otabek caught him by the base of his spine once again. “Yura?” The words rasped against Yuri’s ear, and when Yuri craned his neck back to face his friend, Otabek pressed their lips together.

The angle was awkward, the kiss little more than a press of open mouths. Yet it was sweeter than any kiss Yuri had ever shared. The fact that it was, in fact, the only _real_ kiss he’d ever had, was a mere technicality, and Yuri enthusiastically rubbed his lips against Otabek’s, sucking on the slow swipe of the other boy’s tongue as it teased against his own.

He broke the kiss with a groan of regret. “Fuck, Otabek, as much as I want to kiss you more, if you don’t stop that I won’t be able to leave this stall for a while.”

“Like I said, onsen first, orgasms later,” Otabek chuckled and pulled himself away from Yuri, finally managing to open the stall door enough to exit. Yuri followed.

It was a promise, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to [@theinsanefox ](http://theinsanefox.tumblr.com/) and [paintedpineapple](http://archiveofourown.org/users/paintedpineapple/pseuds/paintedpineapple) for the beta work! all your suggestions definitely helped make this better.
> 
> as always, the muse is a filthy slut with a praise kink. if you enjoyed this, tell her she's good, and she'll bless you with more fic.


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